Today was third consecutive day in which temperatures were in the 80s. And the weekend promises even hotter weather. I know this may sound like heaven to those of you who are still shoveling snow and slipping on ice. But it feels horrible to me. This is the season that normally serves as a consolation prize for having to deal with the brutality of June in these parts: sunny days in the 60s and 70s and chilly nights in which one can legitimately resort to goose down. I've had to abandon the comforter -- I hope only temporarily -- because I've been feeling all sticky beneath. And I'm wearing a T-shirt and shorts at night without even getting the slightest urge to shiver. I can deal with the 80s, if I adjust. What scares me is the prospect that the summer ahead will be especially awful. The fact that one of our desert tortoises has given up on hibernation three months early is not a good sign.